


Parting Is Such Sweet Sorrow

by Persiflage



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Disabled Character, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode Tag, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, First Time, Office Sex, Older Man/Younger Woman, Workplace Sex, not Lincoln Campbell friendly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-23
Updated: 2016-03-23
Packaged: 2018-05-28 15:44:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6334813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persiflage/pseuds/Persiflage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>3:13 Tag fic: Daisy consoles Coulson after the team says goodbye to Bobbi and Hunter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Parting Is Such Sweet Sorrow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [zauberer_sirin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zauberer_sirin/gifts), [BrilliantlyHorrid](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrilliantlyHorrid/gifts), [Skyepilot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyepilot/gifts).



> I'm gonna miss Bobbi Morse, and I figure Daisy and Phil will too, but she'll do her best to comfort him.

As Coulson walked out of the bar, following Mack, he wasn't too surprised to find Daisy was waiting for him.

"You okay?" she asked, and her hand brushed briefly against his left as she fell in beside him.

"Yeah," he said, but his voice was husky with the emotion he was trying to suppress. "I expected you to walk with Mack."

She glanced at him in the semi darkness, and he said, "Not trying to get rid of you, Daisy, but he's your field partner."

"Yeah, but I figure he needs some space for now."

"And I don't?"

"Do you?" she asked. "Because if you do – "

"No." He cut her off. "No, I'm – " He had to pause and swallow before he could finish. "I'm glad of your company, thank you."

She caught hold of his hand, linking her fingers with his, and he felt a lump in his throat that he couldn't quite swallow. He glanced ahead and noted that May was now walking alongside Mack, while Simmons and Fitz were further in front of them.

"D'you know any Russian?" Daisy asked when they'd walked in silence, fingers still linked together, for a couple of blocks.

"Not much," he said. "Why?"

He felt her shrug. "Figured I should learn." There was a brief pause, then she added, "Something Bobbi said."

"Aren't you learning Spanish?" 

"Yeah." She turned her head and smiled at him. "Planning on surprising Elena and Joey next time I see them."

He smiled back, unable to help himself – it was so typical of Daisy, he thought, that she'd insist on learning Spanish rather than expecting Elena to speak English.

"There are probably tutorials online," he suggested. "For the Russian, I mean."

"Oh sure," she said, "but it's not the same as learning it from a native speaker."

"True," he agreed.

They walked in silence for a little while longer, then she asked, "We in a rush to get back to Zephyr1?"

"Why?" he asked curiously.

"I'm hungry," she said, and nodded across the street to a hotdog stand.

He chuckled quietly, then angled them in the right direction, grateful that the traffic just here was light.

He took his hand from hers in order to accept the hotdogs from the vendor, and immediately missed the warmth of her skin. His new prosthetic was really good, and while he still resented not having his real hand, he was slowly beginning to get used to this one. It would never be the same, of course, and he would always miss his hand, but he had to admit he was slightly more reconciled to the new one.

He passed Daisy's hotdogs to her, then took a cautious bite of his own, and was startled by how good it was – better than he'd somehow expected.

"Mmm, good dog, Phil," she told him, smiling around her mouthful of sausage and bun.

"Not bad," he agreed.

They remained standing a few feet away from the hotdog stand, eating in a companionable silence, and he felt some of the tension in his muscles beginning to ease. 

Even though Daisy had two hotdogs to his one, she still finished before him, and as he wiped at his face with his napkin she smirked. "What?" he asked.

"Just – " She reached out and swiped her thumb over the corner of his mouth. "Mustard," she told him, then held her thumb up to show him. 

He didn't think, he just leaned forward a little and licked the ball of her thumb, tasting the mustard, a tinge of salt, and an even tinier hint of soap. Her eyes were huge as she stared at him, then she muttered, "Fuck, Phil", before leaning towards him and bringing her lips to his.

He slid an arm around her lower back and held her against him as they kissed eagerly. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing herself more firmly against his chest, and he slid his left hand up to the back of her head, tangling his fingers in her hair. 

When they finally broke apart to catch their breath, her lips looked luscious in the light of the street lamp and he had to force himself not to lean in for another kiss or ten.

"Wow, Phil," she said, and he tightened his hold on her.

"I probably shouldn't have done that," he observed.

"Too late, Phil, you did it."

He nodded. "Yeah. But what about – you know – Mr Campbell?"

She bit her lip, looking embarrassed. "Yeah," she sighed. "I – uh – I should probably talk to him." She grabbed his wrist and pushed up his cuff to check his watch. "Think I'll wait until we're back though."

He nodded again. "I won't insult you by asking you if you're sure about this," he said, "but you realise that a relationship – a closer relationship – between us isn't going to be easy."

She snorted. "Yeah, Phil, 'cos all my relationships so far have been just peachy."

He chuckled, unable to help himself. "Okay," he said, and then her mouth was on his again, hot and eager, and rather demanding. He felt like he ought to object, to tell her she should wait until she'd talked to Campbell before she kissed him again, but he couldn't seem to find the words.

PC-DJ-PC-DJ-PC

They'd walked back to Zephyr1 hand in hand until they were almost in sight of the plane, then they'd walked side by side. On the way back, they'd agreed they'd go their separate ways until Daisy had spoken to Campbell – it was the only way, he felt, to be sure that they wouldn't jump each other before she'd ended things with Campbell. He'd been a little surprised to learn that she and Campbell had only recently had sex – he hadn't given the matter that much thought, but he'd sort of assumed the two of them had been intimate for longer than that.

Once back at the Playground, Coulson headed straight to his office to deal with the paperwork from their trip to Russia. He'd just finished updating Bobbi's file when Daisy appeared in his doorway – her eyes looked a little red, he noticed, but her expression was determined. She carried two bottle of beer in one hand and a large plate of sandwiches in the other.

"You missed dinner," she said, and he watched as she turned and locked the door behind her, before she jerked her head at the couch under the window.

"I was busy," he told her, unnecessarily.

"Yeah, well you need to eat." She set the plate down on the coffee table in front of the couch, then held out a beer to him. "As do I." They sat down side by side, but not quite touching.

"I take it you spoke to Mr Campbell?" he asked carefully as she opened her bottle, then held out the bottle opener to him.

"Yeah, I did."

"Are you okay?" he asked softly.

She nodded, and took a long pull from her beer. "Yeah, Phil, I'm okay."

He nodded back, not wanting to press her, but feeling sure that she knew she could talk to him if she wanted to.

"He wasn't very happy, to be honest. But, I can't say I care that much."

"Oh?"

She sighed, then leaned back in the seat, resting her bottle on her knee. "I thought being in a relationship with another Inhuman would be easier, somehow, than being with someone else but, if anything, it was harder." She leaned towards him, angling her head towards his shoulder, and he immediately switched his bottle to his other hand, then wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

"I'm sorry," he told.

"Don't be," she said. "He was, as it turned out, pretty bad for me." She sighed again. "Let's not talk about him right now."

"Okay." 

They finished their beers in silence, then she took his empty bottle from him and set it on the coffee table, alongside the still-untouched plate of sandwiches. She looked at him for a long while, her dark eyes intent, then she climbed into his lap and began kissing him, sliding her tongue easily into his mouth. He kissed her back, wrapping his arms around her waist for a bit, before dropping his hands to clasp her ass and pull her body more tightly against his.

"Fuck, Phil", she gasped. "Are you really pleased to see me?"

He chuckled. "Oh yeah – very pleased." He was hard as an iron bar beneath the denim of his jeans, and he hoped he wouldn't shoot off too soon.

She began to unfasten his jeans, and then her hand was coiling around his hot flesh.

"Oh fuck," he muttered. It occurred to him, finally, that she'd deliberately changed into the little red dress she was wearing, the one that she'd worn that day he'd first taken her for a ride in Lola.

"Yeah, Phil." She eased his cock free of his jeans, giving it a couple of quick, firm strokes, then she shifted on his lap until she was poised over him. "Ready?"

He nodded, although he wasn't quite sure if he really was ready. He found out a moment later when she sank down onto his cock, making them both moan loudly as her slick heat seemed to engulf him from root to tip.

She began a rhythmic movement over him, her hands on his shoulders, and her gaze fixed on his face. He reached up with his mouth and she ducked her head to meet him; they kissed hungrily, and she picked up the pace of her movements until he could feel a familiar tightening in his balls.

"Daisy, I – " he began after pulling his mouth from hers, but got no further as she came hard, her muscles clenching tightly around his cock.

"Oh fuck!" he exclaimed as he felt his cock beginning to spurt inside her. 

PC-DJ-PC-DJ-PC

A couple of hours later they were settled in his bed in his quarters. They'd straightened themselves out, eaten their sandwiches, and talked about Mack, before retiring here. He'd felt a bit nervous about undressing fully in front of her, but she'd been very careful with him, touching the scar on his chest with what he could only call tenderness. She'd also assured him that she didn't mind him not sleeping in his prosthetic hand, and had even taken it from him once he'd disconnected it, putting it in the case he used for charging it at night. Now they were spooned up together, his back to her chest, and their arms wrapped together.

"Phil?"

"Hmm?" He was half asleep already.

"I'm so glad I met you."

"Me too," he mumbled. He felt her press her lips to the nape of his neck, and he smiled. "Go to sleep," he told her.

"Yeah," she agreed, her arms tightening around his torso. 

He felt warm, safe, and cherished, and he was still smiling when sleep pulled him down into the darkness.


End file.
